Eighth.

[trustharder]

Seven in the morning comes and goes as it always does – namely, loudly and a little obnoxiously, given the usual blaring of the klaxons. Today marks almost a full eight weeks since the Survivors awakened in the Vault; more than enough time for people to get used to how things tend to work around here on Fridays, and yet not so long that there isn't any hope that maybe (maybe) this Friday will be better. The first-floor corridor is generally quiet, in that it's free of blood; however, there are some scattered books in the hallway, near the library. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it isn't. It might be good to make sure, though, right? >Explore?

Comments

[notjustawriter]

[Yes, exactly like that!

Gabriel will take the talisman back, flipping it around carefully in his hands.]

Sounds like a good idea.

[amygdalae]

You don't remember anything at all?

[He asks after a very brief pause. Bruce doesn't want to push, but... with something like this surely at least even a little of the experience must be there. Unless his mind's automatically blocked out the trauma... which Bruce can't blame him for.]

[notjustawriter]

Maybe it'll come back to me. Right now, I really don't remember much of anything.

[amygdalae]

It could be the trauma of what happened, especially if you were attacked without warning.

[And if it is from the back it seems to be the case, anyway.]

Just take a rest for now. You need it.